Service gives me Direction & Purpose

We all have those little chores and responsibilities we know we’re supposed to do. After work we’re supposed to pay the bills, make dinner, do the laundry, maybe go to the gym. But before I entered Master’s service, I was terribly undisciplined about all that sort of thing. I was the king of making excuses:

  • a busy day at work meant going into the office early, no time for the gym
  • long stressful days at work meant by the time I got home I didn’t want to go to the gym, or cook dinner, or do anything but maybe look at porn or watch TV
  • I let the mail pile up, because I’ll take care of everything this weekend. And then I don’t. And bills go unpaid.
  • Too tired or stressed to cook, to workout, to clean the house, to work on a project, to read, all those things.

It’s not the life I want to live. Frankly I was directionless and had no motivation; I would get home and not really feel like doing anything in particular, and so I would do nothing. I just felt like I was existing, moving from one day to the next, putting things off until they reached critical mass—the mail pile tipped over or the mad dash to clean the house before friends came over. It’s not fulfilling. It’s not manly.

Yes—the sex is amazing, dancing on the edge of pain and pleasure is exhilarating, and my heart races every time I feel rope on my skin. But this is why I serve: because it motivates me toward a better and more fulfilled life. To become a boy I need to embrace and celebrate service outside of sex, and the pure joy it brings.

As I was driving home from work this week, I was thinking about what was ahead of me when I got home—I had to go to the gym, make dinner, clean the kitchen, do the laundry—and that’s all after the Presentation ritual, kneeling before Sir to be accepted again as his boy. The difference between now and before was in stark relief for me in that moment. When I go home now, I have chores and duties. I have direction—a list of things that are expected of me.

I feel motivated to do the things I ought because it’s part of my role as a servant, because it’s expected of me, because I have orders. I don’t have the choice of slacking off anymore, I don’t get to be lazy because it’s easier. And yes, I have orders and I choose to follow those orders, but I derive such great fulfillment and meaning from my new life of service. I feel a much greater sense of purpose. Because I choose to surrender and to serve, to give up my own will and lack of willpower to a loving master who directs me to become a better person.

This is why I serve: because it motivates me toward a better and more fulfilled life. Yes—the sex is amazing, dancing on the edge of pain and pleasure is exhilarating, and my heart races every time I feel rope on my skin. But not every day can run at full speed, and for me to become a boy I need to embrace and celebrate service outside of sex, and the pure joy it brings.

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